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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22786879">Darkest Before the Dawn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emjac/pseuds/emjac'>emjac</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Resident (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:08:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22786879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emjac/pseuds/emjac</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You didn't think Marshall Winthrop slipped only one past the goalie, did you?  Here is the story of Conrad and the sister he recently discovered.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Conrad Hawkins/Nicolette Nevin, Conrad Hawkins/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Conrad entered the cubicle where his sister stood at the bedside of his nineteen year old patient.  “How are you feeling, Tara?” he asked.</p><p>Remnants of the black charcoal clung to the edges of her mouth.  “Ok,” she said, her voice hoarse.</p><p>“We’re going to keep you here for a few hours.  Keep giving you fluids.”  He indicated the bag dripping into her IV.  “Your parents have been called.  They’re on their way.”  Tara nodded and closed her eyes.  The doctor turned his attention to his sister.  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go for a walk.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m staying here,” Belle said, not looking up from her roommate turned best friend.</p><p>Conrad reached out and touched her arm.  He ignored the flinch.  “Come on.  She’s just going to sleep now.”</p><p>He led her in silence up the elevator and through the corridors until they came to the empty lounge.  Grateful that no one was around, Conrad leaned against the counter with his arms crossed in front of him and waited for his sister to talk.  </p><p>“I was so scared,” she said.  “I didn’t know what to do.”</p><p>He smiled at her. “You did the right thing. You stayed with her, called for an ambulance, and got her here in time. You did good, kid.” </p><p>“I was hoping you wouldn’t be on tonight.”  Belle’s lip twitched at the admission.</p><p>Conrad crinkled his forehead.  “Why would you do that?” he asked.</p><p>Belle shrugged one shoulder.  “I didn’t want you to be mad at me.  Or, you know, disappointed.”  She had connected with Conrad almost a year ago, but they had come too far in their relationship, the only real relationship she had, to lose it now.</p><p>“I’m not mad at you.  Or disappointed.  I am worried for you though.”</p><p>“You don’t need to be.”</p><p>He scoffed.  “I think I do.  But, seriously, Belle, don’t ever try to hide from me when you need help.  I will always help you.  You need to be running towards me.”</p><p>With that, Belled took three steps forward and fell into the arms that had opened to receive her.  Conrad enveloped her and kissed the top of her head.  </p><p>They stood like that for a few moments, until Belle pulled away.  “Sit down,” Conrad said, directing her to the couch.  He walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a water bottle for her. Unscrewing the cap, he gave it to her then sat in the adjacent armchair.  He gave her a moment to compose herself, then started. “Did you take anything tonight?”</p><p>She looked up into her brother’s eyes, hoping it would make her appear more truthful, and shook her head. “No.  I don’t do drugs.  When I’m at a party I’ll drink.  A little.  But I never do drugs, and I don’t get drunk.  Believe me, I saw enough of that from my mother.”  She rarely opened up to him about her mother or her childhood, but decided to take a leap here.  “And the guys she let hang around us.”</p><p>The bile rose in Conrad’s gut at this latest glimpse she gave him.  Any time he asked about her childhood, she shut him down.  In the short time since they first connected, he learned to wait for the dribbles of information that she gave.  “Have you spoken to your mother recently?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“When’s the last time you spoke to her?”  He suspected he knew the answer.</p><p>Belle’s eyes stayed locked on Conrad’s for a moment, wishing she did not have to verbalize a response.  “It’s been a bit,” she said.</p><p>Conrad waited for his anger to temper.  “Ok, here’s what we are going to do - “</p><p>“Can you please just take me home?”</p><p>“No - “</p><p>“I’ll take an uber.”</p><p>“No.  Listen.  I’m off now.  I’m just waiting for Tara’s parents to get here.  Then I’m taking you home with me.” His tone left little room for argument, but he saw Belle take a preparatory breath.  “This isn’t up for discussion.  Nic will be off in a few hours.  We will all sleep and then see what tomorrow brings.”  He paused and watched her eyes roam and lip twitched as she considered this. He looked at his watch.  “It’s 2:15 in the morning.  I’m not letting you go to an empty dorm room.”</p><p>Sensing she would lose this battle, Belle acquiesced.  “I want to see Tara before we go.”</p><p>Conrad let go of a breath of air.  “Me, too.  Let’s go.”</p><p>DBDDBDDBD<br/>“MVA coming into the ER,” a nurse said to Conrad as he finished typing notes on a computer outside his most recent patient’s room.</p><p>“I know. I got the page. I'll be right there,” he said.</p><p>“I heard someone say it’s your sister.”</p><p>Conrad’s widened eyes looked up at the nurse and then he took off for the elevator.  He called out, “Talk to me,” before he reached bay 3 where Nic and Dr. Pravesh were working. </p><p>“Three car accident. . .  Isabelle was driving. . .  airbag deployed. . . couple of broken ribs. We need a line in her!”</p><p>The nurse who had been struggling said, “I can’t get it.  She won’t stay still.”</p><p>“Let me try,” Nic pushed in beside the nurse.  </p><p>Conrad placed his palm on Belle’s check in an attempt to calm her and keep her still.  He smiled and said, “Hey, kid. You’re ok.” Isabelle’s frantic eyes darted around the room. “Hey,” he said again, moving his hand to her forehead, “look at me.”  When she complied he said, “You’re going to be ok. Calm down.”</p><p>“I’m in,” Nic said.</p><p>“Push fluids,” Dr. Pravesh said. “Possible pneumothorax.  We need a chest x-ray and CT scan.”</p><p>“I want to go home,” Belle said.</p><p>“You can’t go anywhere just yet,” Conrad said.  “This is my friend Dr. Pravesh.  I taught him everything he knows.  He’s going to take good care of you.”</p><p>“Don’t call Marshall.  Promise me.  I don’t want to see him.” Belle’s agitation rose.</p><p>Conrad knew his father would want to be informed that his only daughter was in the ER, but Marshall and Isabelle had a complicated relationship.  “I won’t do anything without your say.”</p><p>“I can’t breathe.”  She tried to gasp for air but failed when the pain tore through her. </p><p>“I know, honey.  Take it nice and slow.”</p><p>The monitors began their rapid beep which drew everyone’s attention.  “She’s tachycardic and O2’s dropping.  Give her .5 Halcion.”</p><p>All the professionals knew what needed to happen and commenced the dance that practice had perfected.  Nic grabbed an intubation tray from the cabinet and Conrad lowered the head of Belle’s gurney.  He switched places with Devon and squeezed his sister’s hand hard, hoping to draw her attention there, away from everything else that was happening to her.  Leaning close and gaining eye contact he smiled and spoke in the soft voice reserved for patients. “Isabelle, you broke a rib.  We think an edge of it punctured your lung.  That’s why you’re having so much trouble breathing.  We’re going to sedate you now.”  Belle shook her head back and forth as tears made tracks down her face.  “You’re going to be ok.  While you sleep Dr. Pravesh is going to put a tube in your throat so you can get oxygen.”</p><p>“No, please.  Take me home.”  Her voice was small.</p><p>“I’ll be with you the whole time.  I promise.  I won’t leave you.”  He saw her eyes close as the drug took effect.  “She’s out,” he said and Dr. Pravesh began the intubation process.  </p><p>Transport arrived to take Belle, sedated and intubated, for her tests.  Devon and Conrad tore the gloves off their hands. Before Conrad could speed up to his sister, Devon caught his shoulder.  “Your sister?” he said when Conrad turned to him.  “How did she not get mentioned before?”</p><p>A broad grin took over the resident’s face.  “You didn’t think Marshall Winthrop only let one slip past the goalie, did you?  She’s a sophomore at GSU.  Doesn’t like my dad, as you may have heard.  Nic and I try to take her to dinner once every month or so.”  They walked as they talked.  </p><p>“She seemed pretty agitated, even for an MVA patient,” Devon said.</p><p>“Yeah.  She’s had a rough time.”</p><p>DBDDBDDBD<br/>.<br/>“Are you going to call your dad?”  Nic asked. She managed to get herself assigned to the nurse’s station outside the room where Belle had been admitted. She planned on keeping as close an eye as possible on her boyfriend’s sister.  After all Nic had been through, she valued family.  And Conrad’s family was her family.</p><p>“You heard her in the ER.  He’s the last person she wants to see right now.” </p><p>“She wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.”  </p><p>Conrad continued typing information into the tablet as he answered her.  “I can’t betray her, Nic.  She trusts me and she does not trust another soul on this earth.  She’s fragile.”</p><p>“I get that, but she needs as much support as she can get right now.  Your dad will give her that.  You know he will.”</p><p>“I know.  But she doesn’t.  I’ll convince her to let me call him.  Until then,” he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts.  When he found what he was looking for, he looked up at Nic with a twinkle in his eyes and finished, “I’m calling her mom.”</p><p>DBDDBDDBD</p><p>Isabelle’s eyes opened when big brother walked through the door.  He smiled and sat on the edge of her bed.  He pulled the stethoscope from around his neck and listened to her chest.  She closed her eyes again and he took the opportunity to examine her complexion and the monitors.  She was holding her own, but pale and weak.  Doctoring done, he took her hand in his and ran his thumb across the back of it.  Her eyes opened.  </p><p>“How’s your pain?” he asked.</p><p>“It’s fine-” A dry cough choked her words. </p><p>Conrad gave her a sip of water.  “The intubation tube was removed a little bit ago.  That‘s why your throat is scratchy.  It’ll feel better soon.”  He returned the cup to the table and tilted his head a bit in the opposite direction of his crooked grin.  “Back to your pain. Scale of 1 to 10?”</p><p>Belle inhaled and considered.  “Maybe a three?”  </p><p>“Ok,” he said, his hand remained on hers.  “The meds you’re on should keep it there.  Let me  know if it gets any worse and I can increase it.  Ok?”</p><p>She shook her head. “You’re not my doctor.  You’re supposed to be my brother.  Can you just do that?”</p><p>He laughed, “Probably not, but I’ll try.  It’s kind of who I am.”</p><p> When a few moments passed and he had not spoken again, she considered his eyes and the small smile that remained on his lips.  “You have bad news,” she said.  "Am I alright?"</p><p>"For the moment, you're doing fine. Dr. Pravesh will be in soon to talk to you.  Ya know, since I’m not your doctor. It's going to take some time before you're one hundred percent."</p><p>Her mind raced to decipher his expression and panic rose.  “You called Marshall.”</p><p>“No,” Conrad was quick to respond.  “You asked me not to.  I won’t betray you..”</p><p>“Then what is it?”</p><p>“I called your mom.”</p><p>Belle attempted to laugh but coughed again instead. When she recovered she said, “Yeah?  How’d that go?”</p><p>Conrad remained silent.</p><p>“Please stop looking at me like that, Conrad.  I don’t need your pity.”  Conrad obliged by standing and walking across the room.  “I’ve been dealing with my mom my whole life.  She’s not coming here.  She doesn’t do sick people.  And she’s got her own shit going on.”</p><p>Conrad turned to face her.  “Ok, but we need to call dad now.”</p><p>“I do not need you to call Marshall,” she said with a failed attempt at a laugh.  “I’ve never needed him before and I don’t need him now.”  Belle closed her eyes.  The conversation, plus the coughing, was exhausting her.</p><p>“You’re a tough cookie, huh?  You take care of yourself.  Don’t need anyone else.”</p><p>She did not bother opening her eyes. “Yeah, Conrad.  That’s the way it is.  The way it’s always been. If you don’t want to be here, you can go, too.  I’m fine on my own.”</p><p>Conrad moved to the foot of her bed and stood with his hands on his hips.  He spoke through gritted teeth.  “I’m not going anywhere.  And that’s not the way it has to be.”</p><p>Dr. Pravesh and Nic entered the room together and felt the tension.  Nic shifted her eyes between the two and guessed their current topic of conversation.  </p><p>“Hey,” Dr. Pravesh said to his patient, whose eyes opened a bit. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“Sleepy,” she said.  “And Conrad thinks he’s my doctor.”</p><p>Devon didn’t dare sneak a peek at his mentor. “Well, that’s what happens when there’s a doctor in the family.”</p><p> Nic stood next to her boyfriend and hoped her presence would calm him. “Come on,” she said, giving his arm a tug.  </p><p>Conrad pulled away. “I’m staying.”</p><p>“Belle needs to be with her doctor.  Let’s go.”  She took his arm again and led him out of the room.</p><p>Dr. Pravesh examined his patient as Belle spoke.  “He thinks he has to take care of me.  He doesn’t.”</p><p>He sat on the edge of her bed and spoke. “You broke two ribs.  One of them made a small puncture in your lung.  We inserted a catheter, like a small tube, into your chest cavity to remove the air.”  He paused for a moment to let that information sink in.  “Do you have any questions?”</p><p>She was not quite clear on what he had said, but her mind fogged over and a question would not formulate. “Not right now,” she said.</p><p>Medical business settled for the time being, Devon switched topics. “Now, let’s talk about Conrad. Two things I know about your brother:  he loves taking care of people, and he doesn’t do much that he doesn’t want to do.  Why not let him take care of you? You're going to need help for a little while so you can heal properly."  When she didn’t answer he continued, “Are you mad at him?  Are you trying to hurt him?”</p><p>“No.  He’s literally the only person I have.”</p><p>He rubbed her leg. “Then maybe let him help.”</p><p>DBDDBDDBD</p><p>Conrad, hands on his hips, paced the hallway outside his sister’s room.  “I should be in there.” </p><p>“No, you shouldn’t.  She needs to be with her doctor.  You’re the one who said she doesn’t trust anyone.  Let her build some trust in Devon."</p><p>Conrad stopped short at her comments.  “You know I didn’t mean to exclude you in that.  She trusts you, too.”</p><p>“I’m not worried.  Belle and I are working on our relationship.  It will come along.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was on top of her again. He covered her whole body with his. Belle did not open her eyes.  She did not want to see him.  She tried not to breathe.  Tried to stay as still as possible. Maybe he would go away; tire of her lack of involvement and give up on his endeavors. He never had before, but that didn't keep her from trying. Every. Single. Time. The pressure on her chest became too much. She would have to let go of her breath. She waited until the last possible moment. The moment when she was sure that one more would force her into unconsciousness, and she let out the breath she held.</p><p>The weight lifted off her and the monitors' beeping infiltrated her slumber. She opened her eyes in the darkened room and found she was not alone.</p><p>"What are you doing?" She asked,her volume not quite as loud as she had planned.</p><p>"You're ok," the figure said. “It's time for more meds.”</p><p>Belle tried to sit up but the pain did not let her get far. "No," she said. "I don't want any more."</p><p>The shadow, busy fumbling with the syringe and Belle's IV, said, "Sorry. Doctor's orders."  Nurse Linda had been employed at Chastain for the past month, and was drowning in the hours she was assigned.  A single mother, she had a boy at home waiting for her and was already thirty minutes past the time she was supposed to leave.  She thought for a moment about asking her patient what her concern was, and she knew it was Dr. Hawkins sister she was tending to, but this was her last task before she could go home, and she knew Belle needed more pain meds.  So she ignored the agitated patient, and pushed the syringe into the IV.</p><p>The frenetic beeping of monitors sent Conrad, Nic, and Devon rushing into Belle’s room.  They found her grappling with her nurse “Belle?” Conrad asked as he rushed to her bedside. </p><p>“What are you doing?” Nic rounded the bed and asked Linda.</p><p>“She pulled out her IV.”</p><p>“She’s trying to poison me!” Belle said.</p><p>Conrad grabbed Belle’s arm where the IV had been ripped and blood spurted.  He trusted Nic to deal with Linda and Devon to mind the monitors.  “Belle, I’m right here.  You need to keep still.” </p><p>She struggled around him as best she could but the pain of her injuries and the strength of her brother did not allow for much.  “I told her not to give me any more.  I told her!”</p><p>Conrad spoke softly to her.  “She’s trying to help you.”  When she began shaking her head, he continued.  “Yes.  Belle.  Everyone here is trying to help you. Now you have to calm down.  You’re going to hurt yourself more.”</p><p>“She wouldn’t listen to me.  I told her to stop.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.  She should have listened.  But you’re ok.”  He looked over his shoulder and saw Linda leaving the room.  “She’s gone now.  You’re ok.”</p><p>Nic stood on the opposite side of the bed from Conrad and began the process of reinserting the IV while Conrad held Belle’s arm steady.  “I’m sorry that happened to you, Belle.”<br/>Seeing what Nic was doing, Belle tried once more to wrestle her arm away from Conrad.  “No!”  Conrad tightened his grip.</p><p>“Belle!” Dr. Pravesh’s voice broke through the cacophony.  “Nic’s setting up you IV and pushing fluids.  I won’t give you any meds until you calm down and we talk about it.  Ok?”</p><p>“Really?” Belle relaxed a bit.</p><p>“Yes, really.”  He smiled at her.</p><p>Belle closed her eyes and her breathing slowed, as did the beeping on the monitors. Her brother’s hold eased and turned into comforting strokes on her arm as Nic’s expert hands inserted the needle.  She could not remember a time when she was as cared for as this.  As loved as this. A sense of peace washed over her that she did not want to lose. It affirmed the fact that she could not let herself fall asleep.  She did not want to dream again.  “Thank you,” she said.</p><p>Conrad released her and stood from the bed.  He placed a kiss on her forehead, then walked to the foot of the bed letting Devon take his place.  Sensing the shift, Belle opened her eyes.</p><p>‘Now, tell me.  What’s going on?” he asked.</p><p>“I don’t want anymore medicine.”</p><p>“I got that,” he said.  “Why not?”</p><p>“It’s making me too sleepy.  I’m tired of sleeping.  I don’t want anymore.”  The fact that Belle’s eyes kept drooping into long, slow blinks did not escape anyone in the room.</p><p>“I understand.  But you have suffered a very traumatic injury, from which you have not yet healed.  You are going to be in a great deal of pain if we do not keep up on the meds.”  He considered his patient. “Let’s make a deal.”</p><p>“You’re going to try to trick me.”</p><p>Nic finished cleaning up the mess Belle and Linda had made.  “Dr. Pravesh would never do that,” she said.</p><p>“I’ll cut back on the dosage, if you promise to let us know if the pain gets worse.  Deal?”  </p><p>Belle looked from her doctor to her brother.  Conrad smiled and nodded, “That’s a good deal,” he said.  “It’s better than you would have gotten from me.”</p><p>“I’m scared,” she said.  </p><p>“I know.  I’ll stay with you.” Conrad rubbed her blanketed calf.  “You’re safe here.”</p><p>Nic administered the drugs and minutes later Belle fell asleep.  Conrad pulled a chair as close to the head of her bed as he could get and settled himself in for the night.  Devon found him there an hour later when he went to check on his patient one last time before heading home for the night.  “You staying here tonight?”</p><p>“Yeah.  Nic went home.  I’m staying with Belle.  I don’t want her to wake agitated again.  Or in pain.”</p><p>Devon kept his gaze on the slumbering girl who looked so much younger than her nineteen years. “You want to fill me in on her history a little more?  I mean, she doesn’t want to sleep?  And her panic attacks are intense.”</p><p>“I know they are. But there’s little I know of her history.  One thing is becoming clearer though.”</p><p>“What’s that?”</p><p>“It’s way more traumatic than I thought.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading.  I found it hard to write this scene with all the characters doing different things at the same time.  I hope it's clear!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Conrad, Devon, and AJ Austin huddled in the small imaging room reviewing the latest of Belle’s test results.  “The chest  tube is only draining 100mL per hour, and she’s not getting enough oxygen to her blood.  She’s short of breath, I presume?” Dr. Austin asked.</p><p>“Yes,” Devon said, “and she has been tachycardic.  I figured it was her agitation.  We could run some tests to be sure.”</p><p>Conrad said, “I want to put her through as little as possible.  Her emotional state is not good.”</p><p>“Marshall Winthrop hasn’t demanded every test known to man for his precious daughter?”  AJ asked.</p><p>“Marshall Winthrop doesn’t know.”</p><p>“Wow.  Might want to change that soon.”  Dr. Austin turned to Dr. Pravesh. “Hold off on further testing.  We’ll observe for a few more hours.  I’ll be around if surgery’s needed.”  He started towards the door.  “And call her next of kin.”  </p><p>Once he had left Devon said, “Nic managed to get the school to send over some paperwork from their Health Service.  Belle went there for a sore throat a few weeks ago.  She listed you as her contact person in case of emergency.  Given that and her age, you don’t have to call your dad.  We can proceed with whatever’s needed.”</p><p>“I think it’s time I called.”  </p><p> </p><p>DBDDBDDBD</p><p>The next time Belle opened her eyes, Nic entered the room with familiar bags hanging off her shoulder.  “Hey,” Nic said, dropping the bags onto the window ledge, “how are you feeling?”</p><p>Belle let her eyes drop in a long blink. “Someone asks me that every time they walk into the room.”  She looked down at her hand and saw one of Conrad’s bracelets on her wrist.  A smile came to her lips thinking of him leaving it there while she had slept.  </p><p>“Yeah,” Nic said, “kind of standard operating procedure around here.”</p><p>“I’m just so tired,” Belle said.  She attempted to sit up but failed with a groan.</p><p>Nic rushed to her side.  “Your body’s trying to heal itself.  You need to give it a break.  You’re going to be weak for a while.” She raised the bed somewhat to make Belle more comfortable.</p><p>“I don’t have time for ‘weak.’” Belle fought the tears that invaded her vision, but it resulted in a large lump in her throat that she could not swallow around.  </p><p>Nic pulled a chair close to the head of the bed and placed a hand on Belle’s shoulder.  “Shhh. It’s ok.  Focus on breathing.”</p><p>Belle took a moment and did as she was told.  When she had calmed a bit, she said, “I don’t have time for this, Nic.  My whole life.  It’s on a schedule.  My classes, everything.  I can’t let anything slide.”  The tears slipped down her cheeks and she swiped at them. </p><p>“This is what Conrad has been trying to tell you.  You need help.  It’s ok to accept help.”</p><p>Belle shook her head and sipped from the water Nic offered.</p><p>“I went to your dorm room,” Nic said.  “I hope you don’t mind.  I grabbed a couple of things for you.  Clothes, some books, I talked to your roommate.”</p><p>“Tara?” Belle smiled.  “I love her.  Isn’t she great?”</p><p>“She is.  She's been doing ok since she was here last month?”  Belle nodded.  “She wants to come see you.  I told her to give it a couple more days.”  Nic stood and walked to the abandoned bags.  “And I got you something else.”  She fumbled around and turned back to Belle with a smile on her face.</p><p>“A phone?  You got me a new phone?”</p><p>“Yours was destroyed in the accident.  It’s not a big deal.  I knew your service provider.  You had insurance, which, by the way, your brother will tell you is a waste of money.  But it didn’t cost anything, so what does he know?  I had them set it up for you, too.”</p><p>This overwhelmed Belle and brought about a fresh round of tears as she unwrapped and began fiddling with the new device.  “I don’t know why I keep crying.  I never cry.”  She wiped her face again.  </p><p>“You went through a trauma.  Physically and emotionally.  Do you want to talk about the accident?”  When Belled shook her head, she continued.  “It’s also the medicine.  It makes some people weepy.”  </p><p>“Another reason to refuse it.”</p><p>“You can’t refuse it.  We’ve been through that.  The pain would be unbearable.”</p><p>“I know. I just need to get it together.”</p><p>“No.  You don’t.  You need to give yourself a break so you can get better.  Here,” she took the phone from the girl and placed it on the table. “Play with this later.”  She walked to the light switch and turned them off, then situated herself in the chair.  “You close your eyes and sleep. I’ll stay right here with you.  You’re going to be fine.”</p><p>Belle, too drowsy to argue, closed her eyes.  She mumbled, “Thank you,” and fell asleep, fingers touching the bracelet.</p><p>DBDDBDDBD</p><p>Nic did not realize she had fallen asleep until a familiar hand ran down the back of her head.  She opened her eyes to see Conrad in the darkened room.  He switched on the overhead light furthest from Isabelle’s bed and then sat by his sister and placed his hand on her forehead</p><p>“Hey,” he said in a hushed voice.  “Time to wake up, Princess.”</p><p>Belle woke with a start, which sent a tinge of pain through her chest.  </p><p>“Easy,” Conrad said.  “Take it easy.”  He gave her a moment to get her bearings.  </p><p>“You’re not getting better as quickly as we hoped.  We’re going to keep watching you for a few hours.” He did not want to tell her that surgery was the next option until he absolutely had to, knowing that would not go over well. “In the meantime, it’s time to call dad.”</p><p>Her agitation was immediate, but not unexpected.  Conrad kept one hand on her shoulder and the other on her cheek to prevent her flailing and keep her focused on him.  Nic had risen from her seat and stood on the other side of the bed, caressing Belle’s arm and watching the monitors.  Belle said, “No.  You said you wouldn’t.  You said it was my choice.”</p><p>“You don’t have to see him, but he needs to be notified.” </p><p>“You don’t think he’ll come down?” Belle hated the disappointed tone her voice took.  This was her real fear, the one she could not even admit to herself - that he would be called but not care.  Like her mother.  She could not keep handling rejection, especially from the two people who were supposed to love her the most. </p><p>Conrad smiled at his baby sister.  “Oh, he’ll come down.  He’ll be on the next flight to Atlanta, there’s no doubt.  But I can keep him away from your room until you’re ready to see him.”  He let that idea sink in for a moment.  “Fair enough?”  </p><p>Belle nodded and closed her eyes, exhausted from this brief conversation.  Conrad let out a sigh of relief, smiled at his girlfriend, and left the room.  His phone was in his hand and pressing buttons so that by the time he entered the empty conference room at the end of the hallway, the call had connected. </p><p>“Conrad?” Marshall said.  “What’s wrong?”</p><p>“There’s been an accident.  You’re needed at Chastain.”</p><p>Marshall started clearing things off his desk in Memphis as he said, “On my way.  See you in a few hours.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Conrad and his father walked down the hallway and stopped outside Belle’s door where they viewed her through the window.  “So, what’s the plan?” Marshall asked.</p><p>“She’ll probably head into surgery soon.  Dr. Austin will repair her lung.  Recovery will take some time, but she’ll be as good as new.”</p><p>Marshall was a man who got things done, and never settled for less than perfection.  He began rapid-fire questioning.  “This Dr. Austin? He any good?”</p><p>Conrad narrowed his eyes at the insinuation that he would allow anyone but the best to work on his sister.   “The best.”</p><p>“And you’re overseeing her care?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>“I want her moved to the VIP suite.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>For the first time since arriving at Chastain twenty minutes earlier, Marshall trained his eyes on his son. “She’ll be more comfortable and get more attention.”</p><p>“She’s as comfortable as she can be and there is no patient in the building getting more attention right now.  Besides, she would hate being up there.  She is not pretentious, as you should know, but probably don’t.”</p><p>Marshall moved his gaze back to the sick girl sleeping behind the window.  His voice softened.  “I know she’s not pretentious.  Have you called her mother?”</p><p>“Yeah.  What the hell were you thinking with that one?”</p><p> </p><p>Marshall took a step closed to his son. “My personal life, past or present, is of no concern to you.”</p><p>“It is when it produces a sister for me.  A sister who clearly had a traumatic childhood.”</p><p>“She told you that?”</p><p>“Not in so many words, but she displays many markers of PTSD, anxiety, nightmares, hyper vigilance.  I have had to physically restrain her twice since she’s been here to keep her from hurting herself more.  She flinches every time I touch her, and that was before the accident.”  He became angrier as he spoke, but was sure to keep his voice low in the busy hospital.</p><p>“God,”  Marshall said under his breath as he rubbed the back of his neck.  “What has she actually said to you?”</p><p>“There were drugs, alcohol, and men.  Lots of all of them.  Why didn’t you get her out of there?”</p><p>“I didn’t know.  Of course I would have gotten her out if I’d known.”</p><p> </p><p>“And why the hell didn’t you know?”</p><p>“Conrad, I did the best I could!”</p><p>“No, you didn’t.  I’ve seen your best.  That’s not it,” he said, motioning the battered girl in the bed.</p><p>“Look, I already had one kid who wouldn’t speak to me because I kept him from his mother.  I wasn’t going to keep another kid from her mother.  Clearly, that was a mistake.”</p><p>“Clearly.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright.  I get it.  I failed as a father.  I don’t need to be berated by you right now.  My daughter is sick.  I need to fix this.”</p><p>“There’s nothing you can do.  She’s got the best doctors.”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s got to be something.  I fix things for a living.  Give me something to fix.”</p><p>“Here,” Conrad pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to his father.</p><p>“What’s this?”</p><p>“Some detective.  Keeps coming around trying to talk to Belle about the accident. Nic’s taking care of her school, I’m taking care of the medical.  You take care of the police.”</p><p>AJ walked up behind Conrad and clapped him on the back, “Go time, Hawkins.”</p><p>As they rushed into Belle’s room to prep her for surgery, Conrad turned back to his father and said, “I’ll keep you posted.”</p><p>DBDDBDDBD</p><p>Marshall returned to his car and instructed the driver to take him to the Atlanta Police Department, Crime Investigations Unit.  It took about twenty minutes of him posturing and grumbling before Detective Timothy Connor was located and brought to the main lobby for Mr. Winthop.  Marshall was accustomed to people being intimidated by him, but he should have realized that one of Atlanta’s best would be confident and poised enough to stand up to him.  He was led to a small conference room and Det. Connor wasted no time getting straight to the point. </p><p>“Do you know a Michael Stanton?” he asked, making a show of perusing a file he held.</p><p>“No. Who’s he?”</p><p>“He is the owner of the car your daughter was driving when she got into the accident?” A fifteen year veteran of the force, Connor spoke in a straightforward manner.</p><p>“Why was she driving his car?” Marshall had been given few details about the accident, but assumed the car had been borrowed from one of Isabelle’s friends from school.</p><p>“Well, seeing as Mr. Stanton reported it stolen a week ago, we were wondering the same thing.”</p><p>“Are you suggesting my daughter stole the car?”  Mr. Winthrop, also a verteran in direct conversations, and accustomed to leading them, refused to be intimidated.</p><p>“Actually, no.”  He pulled an eight by ten mug shot photo out of his folder and showed it to Mr. Winthrop.  “Ever see this man?”</p><p>Marshall considered the picture and took a moment to answer.  “No.”</p><p>“Know drug dealer and gang member, Cal Rozi.  We’re pretty sure he stole the car.”</p><p>“What does he have to do with my daughter?”</p><p>O’Connor waited a beat before answering, “I don’t know.”</p><p>Marshall knew his blood pressure was rising by the heat that traveled up his neck.  He worked hard to keep his temper intact.  “Well, here’s what I know.  My daughter is not a gang member, a drug dealer, or a car thief.  She is a nineteen year old college freshman at Georgia State University where she is in the Health Sciences program.  Whatever it is that is going on here, she is the victim.  Now she is currently in surgery at Chastain.  You need to figure this all out before she recovers.”  He moved to leave but turned back towards the detective when he reached the door and added, “Do your job!”</p><p>Unfazed, Det. Connor said. “I’ll be in touch,” to the retreating back of Marshall Winthrop.</p><p>DBDDBDDBD</p><p>Peace.  The absence of sound, the absence of light, no thoughts, no feeling.  That left only peace.  Belle clung to it for as long as she could.  She savored it and basked in it.  But it did not last long.  A voice called from far away.  She willed it to stop, but it persisted.  It moved closer, then louder, demanding and irritating.  </p><p>“Isabelle,” Devon said while rubbing her sternum, “Come on, Isabelle.  It’s time to wake up.”<br/>Almost against her will, Belle’s eyes flickered a few times and opened.  She felt flooded by lights and sound.  The intrusion was unwelcome, but the faces before her weren’t.  Her brother had situated himself in such a way that his goofy grin was the first thing she saw.  </p><p>“Hey,” Conrad said.  “Welcome back.”</p><p>“Where was I?” The hoarseness of her voice surprised her for a moment.</p><p>“You were with me,” a deep baritone said from the side of her bed. “I’m Dr. Austin.  We were in surgery.  I fixed your lung.  You, my dear, are going to be as good as new.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Belle said.</p><p>AJ laughed.  “You are most welcome,” he said and left the room.</p><p>Dr. Pravesh said, “As Dr. Austin said, everything went well and you will recover soon.  Probably a couple of more days here and then I’ll send you home.”</p><p>Belle felt the tears fill her eyes, but had no fight left in her to hold them in.  She was pleased that she would recover physically, but she did not have time for a long recuperation period.  And she could not see how this was going to play out with her living in the dorms.  </p><p>Devon left the room and Conrad, smile still plastered on his face, approached his sister and held her hand.  “Hey,” he said, “everything is good.  We’ll work it all out.” </p><p>“Did Dad come?” Her small, pleading voice broke her brother’s heart.</p><p>“I told you he would.  Do you want to see him?”</p><p>Belle shook her head. “Not now.”</p><p>“That’s ok. Whenever you’re ready.”  Conrad slipped a bracelet off his wrist and over the hand he was holding. “Here,” he said.  “I held this for you while you were in surgery.”  Belle fingered the bracelet.  “Sleep.  I’m here for you.”</p><p>And she slept.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Conrad and Nic stepped a few feet down the hall from Isabelle’s room so they could spend a few moments together before their shifts started.  Nic ran her hand up and down Conrad’s arm.  “How was her night?” she asked.</p><p>“Good,” he said.  “She slept. Vitals stable.  Uneventful.” He reached a hand behind his neck and tried to rub out the knot that had developed.</p><p>“Good.  Did you sleep?”</p><p>Conrad looked at her and pulled up half his mouth.  He shook his head.  “There was probably no chance of that happening.  I dozed at best.”</p><p>“What’s your plan for today?”</p><p>“I’m on until 7.  Staying close to Belle.  Devon will probably discharge her tomorrow as long as there are no complications.”  Resigned to the fact that the knot would be with him for a while, he lowered his hand and reached for Nic’s.  He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.  “You ok if she stays with us for a bit?  I’ve been thinking about it all night and I really don’t see any other option.”</p><p>“Of course.” Nic shook her head.  “Of course.  You don’t even have to ask.  I love Belle.  She needs us.  End of discussion.”</p><p>“Thank you,” he leaned in closer to her.  “Thank you.  I love you so much.”  He pecked at her lips.</p><p>“I love you, too.”  </p><p>Conrad heard his sister’s name coming from the nurses desk and turned his attention there.  Standing before the nurse was a well dressed man wearing a tailored suit and carrying a leather portfolio.  Conrad and Nic approached him as the nurse directed the man to Belle’s room.  They cut him off before he arrived at his destination.  “Excuse me,” Conrad said.  “Who are you?”</p><p>“I’m Jeremy Taylor.  I’m Isabelle’s lawyer. If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with my client.”  He tried to move around Conrad but the doctor stepped in front of him once more, holding up a hand in protest.</p><p>“Isabelle doesn’t have a lawyer.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, but as her doctor you know this . . . how?”</p><p>“She’s my sister.”</p><p>“Oh!  Dr. Hawkins." He put a hand out to shake Conrad's. Seeing no reason to ignore it, Conrad shook. "Yes, your father told me about you. It’s nice to meet you.”</p><p>“My father hired you.  Well, I’m sorry he wasted your time, but my sister does not need a lawyer.  She was not at fault in the accident. She was t-boned.”</p><p>“True, she was not at fault.  But she most definitely needs a lawyer.  Here, take my card,” he held it out to Conrad, but when Conrad’s hands remained on his hips, the attorney turned and handed it to Nic.  “Call me when your family gets on the same page and I’ll come right away. And do not let her talk to the police without me.”  He gave a slight nod to Nic, then to Conrad.  “It was nice to meet you.”</p><p>Watching him go, Nic said, “What do you suppose that was about?”</p><p>“I have no idea.  Have you seen my father?”</p><p>“Looked like he set up shop in a corner of the cafeteria when I was coming in.”</p><p>He reached out and gave Nic’s hand a squeeze.  “Then that’s where I’ll be.”</p><p>DBDDBDDBD</p><p>Marshall planned on remaining as close in proximity to his daughter as possible while she healed and, he hoped, while she let down her guard with him. He knew there was a battle ahead, but she seemed worth the fight. His brief relationship with her mother, Carrie, was doomed from the start, but it produced his child. He knew the wrongs he had committed in the past.  There were many of them.  But, if he had learned anything in his sixty-one years it was to fix his mistakes and never stop pressing for what he wanted.  Some may have accused him of pushing too hard, and for too long, but that is how Marshall Winthrop had become a financial success in the business world.  He needed to apply those same tactics to his personal life and win his daughter’s trust, as he had begun to do with his son. </p><p>Two tables had been commandeered from the southeast corner of Chastain Park Memorial Hospital cafeteria that morning and served as Mr. Winthrop’s office.  He spoke on the phone with his assistant, maneuvering his schedule for the day when he spied his son across the room.  Conrad’s head darted around until he spotted his father.  Then, site set, he moved with determination towards his target. </p><p>Marshall cut his call short and rose to his feet by the time Conrad arrived  in his space.  “Isabelle?” he asked.  “Is she ok?”</p><p>“She’s stable,” Conrad said. “You hired her a lawyer?”</p><p>Understanding the look of rage on his son’s face and recognizing where the conversation was going, Marshall sat back down in his chair and took a sip of his coffee.  “How well do you know your sister?”</p><p>“Well enough to know she doesn’t want you to hire her a lawyer.”</p><p>“The car she was driving was stolen.” He kept a close eye on his son to gauge what he knew. </p><p>“And well enough to know she didn’t steal a car.” Conrad narrowed his eyes.  “Why would she do that?”</p><p>“Does she know anyone who would steal a car?”</p><p>“Probably.  She seems to have had a bunch of shady people in her past.”  His mind flitted to Tara and her troubles with drugs and partying, but he did not voice those thoughts.  He would filter information to his father.  </p><p>“I hope you’re right.” Marshall said, leaning back in his chair.  “Regardless, she needs a lawyer.”</p><p>DBDDBDBD</p><p>“What’s that?”</p><p>“It’s called an Incentive spirometer. It will help your lungs heal and keep fluid from building. Here, let me show you.  Sit up as much as you can.  Put your lips around the mouthpiece.  Now inhale slowly and deeply, as much air as you can.”  When Belle complied, Nic said, “Good. See this mark here? This shows your goal.”</p><p>Belle released her mouth from the apparatus and expelled her air.  “Are you kidding me?  I wasn’t even close!”</p><p>“It’s ok.  You’ll get there.  You need to use this as much as possible over the next couple of days.  Here. try again.”</p><p>Belle sank back into her pillows.  “It’s too hard.”</p><p>“I don’t think this thing works.”</p><p>“It’s working.  Your lungs are not.  But they’ll get there.”</p><p>By the time Conrad walked into his sister’s room, he had visited a couple of his patients and calmed a bit.  He shifted his gaze between the two women and settled them on Belle.  “What’s going on in here?” he asked.  </p><p>Conrad’s nervous tension was not lost on Nic.  She wanted to know how the conversation with his father had gone, but she waited.  “Showing Belle the spirometer,” she said.</p><p>“Yeah.  She wants me to suck on this stupid piece of plastic.  I can’t.  It’s too hard.”</p><p>Conrad’s goofy grin found its way to his face.  “Oh, come on!” he said.  “You’re tougher than that.  You’re the toughest girl I know.”  He ignored Belle’s over the top eye roll and picked up the apparatus.  “Here.  Try again.  Show me how it’s done.”</p><p>Her brother was hard to ignore.  Belle took the device from him and made her best attempt at performing the task again.  Her results were better than before, but missed their mark.  She exhaled and once more fell back into her pillows.  “See?  Too hard.”  </p><p>“Nah,” Conrad said.  “I think you did great.  We’ll leave this here,” he placed it on her tray, “and you can try again in an hour or so.  You’ll get there.”</p><p>“You lie.”</p><p>Conrad placed a hand on her shoulder and looked straight into her eyes. “Not to you I don’t,” he said.</p><p>Belle sensed the conversation was about to turn in a new direction.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading.  Let me know your thoughts.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In his rush to get from the conversation with his father to this one with his sister, no thought had been given to how Conrad would address the situation with Belle.  “What’s going on?” he started.  His eyes shifted for a moment to Nic.  He wished he had discussed this with her first.</p><p>“I told you.  I can’t use that stupid thing.”  She gestured toward the spirometer.</p><p>“I mean about the stolen car.”  </p><p>This topic twist caught Belle by surprise as her eyes widened as they met her brother’s.  “What?” she asked.</p><p>Conrad stepped back from the bed and kept his hands on his hips. “The car, Belle. The car you were driving in the accident was stolen.”  He watched Belle to gauge her reaction to his statement.  Her gaze left his and darted around the room, looking at anything and everything else. </p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  She said, worrying the corner of the sheet.  “I borrowed it from someone.”  </p><p>“Alright, look.  Here are the rules.  I don’t lie to you.  You don’t lie to me.  Got it?”</p><p>“Conrad, I’m not lying to you.  I didn’t steal a car!”  Nic walked to the door and closed it as their voices rose.  Then returned to the opposite side of the bed from her boyfriend.  </p><p>“So who did you borrow it from?  Was it your roommate?  What’s her name?” He glanced at Nic for a second and snapped his fingers to jog his memory.  “Tara.  Is she the one that put you up to this?</p><p>“No!  Tara has nothing to do with anything.  And nobody ‘put me up to’ anything.  If that car was stolen, I knew nothing about it.”  She removed her hand from the sheet and started rubbing across her knuckles.</p><p>“So who let you borrow the car?”</p><p>“You know what, just don’t worry about it. Everything is under control.”  Belle’s mind raced as she tried to put all the pieces together.  Her chest started to ache and her breath became shallow.  She wanted to escape but knew her body would not cooperate.   </p><p>“Nothing.” Conrad’s voice grew in volume.  He saw his sister’s agitation, but needed answers.                “Literally, nothing is under control.  Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in right now?  The police want to talk to you.  You need to tell us the whole story right now.” </p><p>“We’re not talking about this.”  The pace of the rubbing increased and switched to scratching.  Nic noticed and placed her own hand on top of Belle’s  The gesture startled Bell and she yanked back, harder than intended.  “Don’t touch me.”  The sudden movement caused the ache in her chest to switch to a sharp pain.  She did not have time to deal with pain.  She needed her head clear  so she could think.  She sucked in air to no avail, and the monitors began their furious beeping.  She could not breathe and the edges of her vision darkened.</p><p>“Isabelle.”  She heard her brother call but could not respond.  “Stay with me Isabelle.”  </p><p>Dr. Pravesh rushed into the room.  “What’s going on?” he asked as he removed the stethoscope from around his neck.  </p><p>“She’s tachycardic again.”  Nic said.</p><p>“We need to order an echo.  This has happened too many times.  Give epi --”</p><p>“Wait!”  Conrad said. He had moved close to her and placed a hand on her forehead.  “Just give her a minute.  It’s anxiety.  Let her calm down.”  To his sister he said, “You’re ok, Belle.  Shhhh . . . breathe nice and slow. . .  in and out.”<br/>All three sets of skilled eyes trained onto the monitors and watched.  It was mere moments before the numbers started to lower and the beeping stopped.  Relieved, they all turned their attention back to the patient.  “Good girl.”  Conrad kissed her forehead. </p><p>Dr. Pravesh spoke.  “How are you feeling now, Isabelle?”</p><p>She nodded, but did not trust herself to speak.  Gabbing the hem of the sheet, she tugged it high.  She imagined getting lost underneath it. </p><p>“Are you in pain?”</p><p>Having exhausted herself, and not caring to look at anyone in the room, Belle closed her eyes.  “I’m ok.” she said.  Her voice was small.  “I don’t need any more medicine.”  She needed her head clear and for them to leave so she could think of a plan to escape this mess her life had become.</p><p>“Alright,” Devon said.  “Everyone out.  Belle, I’ll be back in a minute.”</p><p>Nic gave Conrad, who made no attempt to move, a shove towards the door.</p><p>Once in the hall, Devon said, “What the hell just happened?”</p><p>Conrad paced as he spoke in a hushed voice.  “The car she was driving was stolen.”</p><p>“Shit,” Devon said.  “That’s why the police want to see her.”</p><p>“Yes.  And a lawyer was here.  I’m trying to get answers from her before everything comes crashing down on her.”</p><p>“Ok.  Well, that can’t happen today because clearly she is not up for it.”  He noticed Conrad’s tilt of the head, which was his tell for beginning an argument, and cut him off before he could start.  “She is in no condition to answer questions from anyone.  I’m going to have a cardiac workup done on her.”</p><p>“She’s been through enough.”</p><p>“I understand it’s probably anxiety, but I don’t want us to miss anything.  She can handle a workup.  If all comes back fine,” he took a breath, “we need to consider a psych eval.”  Conrad turned his back.  “Conrad, she needs help.  More help than you can give her.”</p><p>“He’s right,” Nic said, reaching for Conrad’s hand to calm him.</p><p>He turned back to his friend.  “Alright.  You’re right.”  He shook his head.  “If she’s in trouble with the police. . . I don’t know . . . what are we going to do?”</p><p>“One step at a time,” Devon said.  “Let me get the echo scheduled.”</p><p>“Should we call that lawyer your dad got?”  Nic asked.</p><p>“Yeah.  Maybe.”</p><p>“Where’s his card?  He gave you his card.”</p><p>Conrad fished it out of his pocket as his pager beeped.  He looked at it and said, “They need me in the ER.”</p><p>“Go,” Nic said.  “I’ll stay close to Belle.”</p><p>He squeezed her hand which had somehow found its way into his.  “Thank you.”  He turned to Devon.  “Thank you both.”</p><p>DBDDBDDBD</p><p>Belle adjusted the bed to an upright sitting position.  She needed to think and the risk of falling asleep if she reclined was too great. She needed to devise a plan.  The fingers on her right hand dug into the knuckles on her left.  Cal had lent her a stolen car.  She could not turn him into the police.  He would kill her.  Of that she had no doubt.  If she told Conrad, he would turn Cal in, and then Cal would kill her.  She needed to leave this hospital, but he likely had a watchful eye on the place and was waiting for her.  There was a good chance he would kill her to prevent her from betraying him.  Her phone had been busted in the accident so he had no way of contacting her.  But he did not need to.  He was with her.  In her nightmares and in the back of her wakeful mind, he never left.  She could not leave, and she could not stay.  </p><p>Dr. Pravesh entered the room startling Belle from her thoughts.  She slid her hand under the sheet and gave him a small smile.  “How are you, Belle?”  he asked.</p><p>“I’m ok,” she said.</p><p>“I’m going to have some tests run.”</p><p>“That’s not necessary,” she said.  She was sick of tests.</p><p>“I’m afraid it is.  Just as a precaution.” Belle ran her hand through her hair and Devon noticed the marks on the back of it.  He reached out and took it into his own.  “Belle!  What is this?”</p><p>She tried to pull it back but he would not relinquish it.  She was as surprised by the markings as he was, not knowing how much she had scratched.  “I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say.</p><p>Devon laid her hand down and pulled a chair closer to the bed.  He sat and said, “Belle, are you hurting yourself anywhere else?”  He thought of telling her that anything she said to him was confidential, but they both knew keeping information from Conrad would prove impossible..</p><p>She shook her head, “No.  Please.  It’s just some scratches.  I get . . . nervous sometimes.”</p><p>“I’m going to give you something for your anxiety.”  When she continued to shake her head, he spoke with more insistence.  “It’s mild.  It will just help take the edge off a bit.”</p><p>“I don’t want it.  It will make me sleepy.”</p><p>“Look, Belle, I don’t know what’s going on.  As your doctor, I can see that you are highly agitated which is interfering with your sleep and holding back your recovery.  I’m going to have a nurse put something very mild through your IV.  Transport will come and take you for some  test soon. I will check back in with you in a couple of hours.”  He stood from the chair.  “If you can try to sleep a little during that time, we can talk about this more later.  OK?”</p><p>Isabelle did not know what else to do, so she nodded her head.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I haven't posted in a while, but I have been working on this story.  Upon rereading, I found a couple of annoying inconsistencies in the storytelling.  For example, Belle said that Cal cannot contact her because her phone was destroyed in the crash., but didn't I make a huge show out of Nic getting her a new phone?  Duh!  I'm sorry about this.  I will rectify it in the next chapter.  Enjoy this one!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Belle lifted her arm and, leaving the port intact, removed the IV tube.  An alarm sounded and she fumbled to reinsert it, quieting the noise.  She sank lower into her pillows and held her breath, hoping the brief beeping did not bring anyone to investigate.  A few moments passed and no one entered the room.  Belle, exhausted, closed her eyes.  She tried to focus.  Strength of mind was needed to overcome whatever anti-anxiety drug the nurse had added to her IV.  She spent time inhaling and exhaling in a rhythmic manner.  </p><p>Anxiety was nothing new to Belle.  Most of her childhood had been fraught with it.  There was one guidance counselor at her school, between third and fifth grade, who helped.  After her teacher noticed Belle’s sadness, a release form was sent home for her mother to sign, allowing direct counseling.  Meredith refused to sign it.  She did not trust her daughter to keep her secrets.  The counselor, Ms. Coy, took a liking to Belle and managed to work with her anyway, under the guise of conducting a whole class lesson.  She would involve the class in some activity or another and then pull Belle to the back of the room to chat.  Her lessons always included relaxation techniques and Belled loved them, and the attention, and Ms. Coy.  In fact, it was Ms. Coy who helped Belle understand the importance of pursuing higher education.  She spoke to other counselors at the middle school, and then the high school and they, in turn, helped Belle with college applications and admissions.  Sometime during high school, Belle learned of the account Marshall had set up years prior for her education.  She hated the idea of taking anything from him, but pushed her pride aside. </p><p>A college degree was the only way.  It would provide a better life than the hellhole she had always known.  It would get her away from her toxic mother for good.  It would yield financial security, not tied to her father.  Her life would mirror that of Conrad and Nic’s.  Plus, she loved school.  It gave her peace. She engaged with others in a manner which showcased her confidence in her intelligence and academic abilities.  It was where she felt most herself.  It was her freedom.  She needed to get back to school.</p><p>Belle took several more deep breaths and pushed the subject of school to the back of her mind.  But another worry propelled to the forefront, her relationship with Conrad.  It was new enough that she could not let herself trust it.  She craved it, but past experiences of people letting her down taught her caution.  He and Nic were the best people she had ever known, but one wrong move on her part could cause them to turn their backs on her.  And their thinking that she stole a car was the main source of her current agitation.  She needed to fix this. </p><p>Everyone told her not to get out of bed without help, at least not the first time.  Her actions were illogical, but thinking things through and proceeding with caution were no longer serving her.  She pushed the button on the remote until her bed was in its full upright position.  She removed her sheet and swung her legs over the side of the bed.  It was as she paused to take in a couple of breaths that a figure appeared in the doorway.  She looked up to see a man, about her age, sporting any employee badge and maneuvering a wheelchair into the room.  </p><p>“Jarod.  From transport,” he said.  He stopped in front of her and glanced at the paperwork in his hand.  “Going to imaging.”</p><p>“No.”  Belle sat up straighter on the edge of the bed and tried to appear strong and, well, healthy.</p><p>Jarod’s head snapped up.  “Yes,” he said, “ordered by . . . Dr. Pravesh.” </p><p>“There’s been a change of plans.  That order was supposed to be cancelled.”</p><p>“Really?”  He continued to look from Belle to the paper in his hand as if things were going to magically make sense to him.  “I’m new,” he said.  “I don’t know what to do.”</p><p>His inexperience emboldened Belle.  “Turn around and go back to the transport office,” she said, as if she knew what she was talking about. “Toss that order and grab another one.”</p><p>The boy shrugged one shoulder and followed her directions.  </p><p>“Wait!”  Belle said.  “Come help me first.”</p><p>“Sure,” he said.  “What do you need?”</p><p>“My IV.  There’s an on/off switch back there that I can’t reach.  I need you to switch it off for me.”  When his only response was a raised eyebrow, she continued.  “Dr. Pravesh told me to stop the IV if I needed to go to the bathroom.   It’s the only way.”  Her confident tone overcame the ridiculous statements she spouted and Jarod was willing to do her bidding.  He turned off the machine, took his chair, and left.  Belle was one step closer to leaving.  One step, out of what felt like thousands.  And time was limited.  Someone was bound to check on her before long.  She needed to hurry.</p><p>DBDDBDDBD</p><p>Nic approached Conrad at the nurses’ station in the middle of the emergency room as he added notes to the electronic chart of his latest patient.  “Busy day,” she said.</p><p>“It is.”  He grinned as he always did when she approached, but didn’t look up from his task. </p><p>“Have you checked on Belle lately?”</p><p>He flipped the tablet and secured it into its holder on the desk before looking up at his fiance.  “Not in a couple of hours.  Figured I’d give her a little space.  She’s scheduled for an echo, plus it’s been nuts down here.  I’ll check in with Devon soon.  See if he has those results.”</p><p>“Hmmm . . . ‘space,’” Nic said as they began to walk away from the now controlled chaos of the room.  “You think that’s what she needs?”</p><p>He laughed.  “I have no idea what she needs.  Every time I think I do, I seem to fall flat on my face.”</p><p>“That’s not true.”  Nic stopped when Conrad reached for her arm and led her inside an empty room.  When the door closed behind them, he put his hands on the sides of her head and kissed her.</p><p>“I’ve missed you,” his lowered voice rasped huskier than usual.  </p><p>His hands dropped to her hips and Nic wrapped her arms around his neck.  She countered with another kiss.  “I’ve been right here,” she said.</p><p>“I’m sorry I’ve been distracted.  Are you doing ok?”</p><p>Nic laughed.  “Yes, Conrad, I’m fine.  We’re fine.  Your attention has to be on Belle because she needs you right now.”<br/>“I just don’t want to neglect you.”</p><p>“You’re not.  I’m a grown-up.  And healthy.  I’m ok.”</p><p>Conrad sighed.  “I can’t figure out how this ends.  With Belle.  I don’t know what’s going to happen.  Or how much help she’ll need.”</p><p>“Stop,” Nic said. “She needs you.  And I come with you, so she needs us.  We will help her.  Whatever she needs, medically, emotionally, legally, financially -”</p><p>“Yeah, we can leave that last one to my dad.”  He grinned.</p><p>Nic shook her head.  “Your dad.  She needs help with that situation, too.”</p><p>Conrad dropped his hands from their comfortable spot on Nic’s hips and took a step back.  “I can’t ask all this of you, Nic.  It’s too much.”</p><p>“First of all, you haven’t asked anything of me.  Second, you were beyond helpful with my sister.  And lastly, I love Belle.  And . . . doubly lastly, you’re not getting rid of me that easily, Dr. Hawkins.”  She walked towards him  and kissed him again, a little longer, a little harder.  </p><p>“‘Doubly lastly,’ huh?”  Conrad asked before diving back into her mouth.</p><p>Their make out session did not last long.  The door burst open and a frazzled Dr. Pravesh stumbled into the room.  “Oh, huh . . . hi,” he said, trying to get his feet underneath him.  </p><p>“Devon.” Conrad said.  “Lose something?”</p><p>“Actually, yeah,” Devon said.  “Your sister.”</p><p>Conrad let go of Nic and took two steps to cover the distance between himself and his mentee.  His brow furrowed, he said, “What?”</p><p>“She’s not in her room.  We’ve been looking everywhere.”</p><p>“The echo,” Nic said.  “Maybe she’s still in imaging.”</p><p>Devon shook his head.  “She never went.  She thwarted transport.”</p><p>Conrad’s voice was raised in anger and fear. “She’s nineteen years old.  And sick.  How the hell did she thwart anyone?”</p><p>Devon shrugged.  “He’s new?”  The excuse sounded lame, but it was all he had to offer.  <br/>“Come on,” Nic said, moving around the doctors to exit the room.  “We’ll find her.  She couldn’t have gotten far.”</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Isabelle’s feet shuffled along the cafeteria floor as she took short, shallow breaths.  She wished she had spent more time with that stupid spirometer.  Perhaps then her breathing would be easier.  She had managed to pull on a pair of joggers and a sweatshirt from the bags that Nic procured from her dorm room.  Her uncombed, blond hair hung limp but hid inside her hood.  She held her new phone and ID case in her hand and continued her escape.  Walking was becoming more difficult and, with no real plan in mind, Belle found a chair at an empty table in the crowded room and sat.  She kept her head down so none of Conrad’s friends would recognize her and spent a few moments reminding her lungs how to work.  She had not expected to labor this much.  After calming herself, she sat back and turned her attention to her phone.  She powered it up before leaving the room and hoped that enough time had passed that things were fully loaded.  Looking at it now, any relief brought to her lungs disappeared.  She saw the numerous texts and missed calls from Cal.  </p><p>“Shit,” she said aloud.  She had not expected this.  How could she have been such an idiot?  Her phone had crashed in the wreck, but Nic transferred all her information to the new phone upon purchase.  Now she scrolled through it catching glimpses of messages sent.  Call me now.<br/>Where are you?  We need to talk ASAP.  I’ll be waiting when you get out.</p><p>Every intake of air burned deep in her chest, causing the next intake to be shorter, then shorter, then shorter, until blackness crept in through the edges of her vision and the faint calling of her name echoed in her head.  </p><p>DBDDBDDBD</p><p>Marshall should have been in his office conducting meetings from his executive leather chair, behind an ornate mahogany desk.  Telephone and virtual meetings held at a cafeteria table while sitting in a flimsy plastic chair did not give him the same commanding appearance.  His gruff manner worked overtime to compensate. </p><p>He stood from the chair, hoping to ease the kink that had formed in his back, and paced the short distance between the two pushed-together tables.  He kept his voice low so as not to be heard by the myriad passersby and diners, but, as luck would have it, people steered clear.</p><p>As his eyes wandered the room, focusing on nothing, they caught sight of a figure hunched over a table.  “I’ll call you back,” he said into his phone, then pocketed it and hurried towards the girl.  “Isabelle?” he called.  Her head was down as she scanned through her phone.  When she dropped it onto the table and lifted her chin, the question left his voice.  “Isabelle!  Isabelle!” He reached her in time to guide her limp body to the floor.  “Someone help!”</p><p>“Dad!”  Conrad skidded to a stop and dropped to the floor beside him.  “”I’m here. What happened?”</p><p>“We need a gurney!” Devon said to the swarm who began to gather.<br/>“I don’t know,” Marshall said.  “I saw her from across the room and got here as she collapsed.”</p><p>“Pulse is thready.”</p><p>Devon ran his hands down her torse.  “She’s bleeding internally.”</p><p>Nic approached them with a gurney and said, “I’ll page Dr. Austen.”</p><p>“What’s happening?” Marshall asked as they stood and moved Belle to the stretcher.</p><p>“She’s going back to surgery.”</p><p>DBDDBDDBD</p><p>The cool hand on her head roused her as it slid to her cheek.  She did not need to open her eyes to know that it belonged to her brother.  But something was not right.  She felt a heaviness around her.  Her eyes wouldn’t open and her breathing was loud, too loud.  She tried to speak, “Something’s --“ but her parched lips would not cooperate.  Her eyes opened for a moment, long enough to see the worry on Conrad’s face.  He was in full-on doctor mode.  </p><p>“You were rushed in for another surgery.  Your little trip to the cafeteria opened up the tear in your lungs and bought you more time in the hospital.  You’re going to be ok.  But, Belle, you are to stay in this bed.  Do you hear me?”  </p><p>Belle heard him, but could not move enough to convey that.  Conrad continued, nonetheless,  “Hear my voice, Belle.  This is me not happy with you.  Do not get out of this bed again.”</p><p>“Conrad,” Belle’s voice came out as a whisper.  He squeezed her hand and softened his tone.</p><p>“You’re ok, Belle.  You’ll be fine.  Close your eyes and sleep.  I’ll stay here with you tonight.”</p><p>Satisfied with his response, she obeyed. </p><p>DBDDBDDBD</p><p>Conrad returned from his morning rounds to check on his post-op sister and found a convergence of police outside her room, a couple uniformed, a couple plainclothes.  His pace increased as he approached them at her door.  “Hey!” he said.  “What’s going on?”</p><p> </p><p>A man who exuded leadership turned to him.  “Det. Tim Connor.  And you are?”</p><p>“Dr. Conrad Hawkins.”</p><p>“Ah, yes.  Ms. Winthrop’s brother.  We’re keeping an officer outside her door.  We need to go someplace and talk.”</p><p>“An officer?  Is she ok?”</p><p>Det. Connor ignored the questions and said, “Please find your father and get us all to a private location.”  </p><p>Conrad wasted no time in finding his father in the waiting room down the hall, where he had moved his traveling business for the time being, pulling Nic from a patient’s room, and procuring an unused conference room per Det. Connor’s request.  The four of them gathered a mere fifteen minutes later.</p><p>The detective slapped the photo of Cal Rozi, that Marshall had first seen in the precinct, onto the conference table.  “This is Cal Rozi.”  He dropped another photo next to it.  “This is the car he stole and instructed your Isabelle to drive.”  Nervous glances passed between the family members as Connor tossed a third photo onto the table.  In the sing-songy voice of someone reading fairy tales to small children, he said, “ And this shows the drugs our tech team found located in the panels of that car.”  He paused and took in the reactions of the people in the room.</p><p>Conrad glowered at the detective.  “My sister is a drug mule?” he asked. He felt Nic next to him squeeze his hand.</p><p>“Oh my God,” Marshall said, turning away from the pictures.  </p><p>Tim, who enjoyed the dramatics that his job sometimes offered, waited a moment more before pulling the final picture from his folder and placing it next to the others.  It featured the corpse of a woman on a coroner’s table.  </p><p>“Who is that?” Conrad asked.</p><p>Marshall turned to look and took in an audible breath.  “That’s Meredith.  Isabelle’s mother.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Conrad, hands on his hips, broke the silence that enveloped the room when his guttural voice spat out, “You’re saying that Cal Rozi killed Isabelle’s mother?  And now he’s coming after Isabelle.”</p><p>“That’s why you have officers outside her room,” Nic said, staying close to Conrad’s side.  </p><p>Tim, ever the detective, kept his eyes bouncing on the occupants of the room, but in no time determined that this was shocking news to all of them.  He nodded his head in response to both the doctor’s question and the nurse’s statement.  </p><p>“Alright.” Marshall said, determined to gain some control over the situation.  “What are we looking at here?  How much legal trouble is Isabelle in?”</p><p>Conrad paced to the other side of the room, also trying to figure out the situation.  “Dad! Her life is in danger.  Legalities are the least of our worries.” He turned back to Det. Connor.  “You have no idea where this Cal guy is?”</p><p>“We have a team of people trying to track him down.  We’ve got some leads we’re following up on.  We were hoping Isabelle would be able to talk to us and give us an idea.”</p><p>Conrad shook his head and continued to pace.  “She’s not even fully awake from her last surgery.  You can’t talk to her now.”</p><p>“And not without her attorney,”  Marshall said.</p><p>“She’s a scared, vulnerable kid.  What do you think she can tell you?”</p><p>Det. Connor said, “Where Cal is holding up.”</p><p>Nic said, “Do you even know for sure he will come after her?”</p><p>He nodded again. “We obtained some text messages that he sent her.”</p><p>Marshall repeated his question, louder and with more insistence.  “How much trouble is she in?”</p><p>“With us?  None, Mr. Winthrop,” Tim said.  “Your daughter had been victimized and abused by Rozi.”</p><p>Nic said, “How did she even become involved with him?”</p><p>“Her mother.  Seems Meredith had been in some sort of relationship with Cal for a few years now.  Introduced him to her daughter.”</p><p>“Jesus,” Marshall said under his breath.</p><p>Conrad said, “What now?”</p><p>“I’ll leave one officer outside her door for the time being.”  He gathered his photos.  “We’ll keep looking for Cal.  You get her better.  And talking.”  He exited the room.</p><p>The three remaining occupants considered each other.  Conrad said, “We need to find her a good therapist.”</p><p>“I’ll get on that,” Nic said.</p><p>What kind of hell has she been living in?” Marshall asked.  “Did you know anything about this?”</p><p>Conrad shook his head,  “You think I wouldn’t have mentioned any of that?”  Their relationship had progressed, but Conrad’s old feelings for his father could emerge at any moment.  He tempered himself.  “I knew bits and pieces of what her life with her mother was like.  But I didn’t know any of this.”</p><p>“This is a lot,” Nic said.</p><p>They were quiet for a moment trying to process all they had learned when the beep of Conrad’s pager interrupted the silence.  He looked at it and said, “She’s awake.”  </p><p>DBDDBDDBD</p><p>Her brain wanted to sleep, but the light infiltrated her eyes, and their talking invaded her ears.  She recognized the voices of her brother and Nic, Dr. Parvesh and Dr. Austin.  They seemed not so worried about her health, but quite worried about the trouble she had found. </p><p>Eyes closed, the words they spat out floated above her bed. She plucked at random from the ceiling and watched as they entered her consciousness.  They knew about Cal.  He had killed her mother.  He was coming for her.  It was too much.  They were trying to wake her now.  She did not want to wake.  She did not want to deal with the reality of the situation.  The lights and noises won and she opened her eyes.  </p><p>“Welcome back,” Conrad said with his typical Cheshire cat grin.</p><p>Her body refused to move.  Her lips and throat craved hydration.  Waking from the first surgery was simple compared to this.  Confusion brought tears to her eyes as her brother’s eyes betrayed his grin.  She wanted to speak, ask for clarification on a myriad of topics, but her brain could not form the words and her mouth could not voice them. </p><p>Conrad, sensing her frustrations, supplied her with answers. “The surgery went well.  Recovery will be a bit longer this time.  Dr. Austin over here,” he gestured to the surgeon and added a humorous lilt to his voice, “might sit on you if you try to get out of bed again.”</p><p>AJ squeezed her calf from where he stood at the end of her bed.  “You’re gonna be ok, kid.  I’ll check on you later.”  He, Dr. Pravesh, and Nic exited the room leaving the siblings alone.</p><p>Conrad’s grin faltered.  “He’s right, you know.  You’re going to be ok.”</p><p>Belle nodded as the tears spilled from her eyes.  “My mother?” Her voice was a quiet croak.</p><p>“You heard us?” he asked.  </p><p>She nodded, “A little.”</p><p>He reached for her hand and told her what he knew about her mom and Cal, the drugs in the car and the officer outside her room standing guard.  She did not want to hear any of it.  She did not want it to be true.  Most important, she did not want to have to fill him in on what he did not know - the years of abuse and fear she and her mom both suffered at the hands of Cal, her anger with her mother for staying with him and dragging her down to his level.  She had barely escaped that hell and now she was in another one, with no mother and a murderous drug king out to kill her.</p><p>She did not have the strength to deal with any of this.  She sank deeper into the pillows and turned her head away from her brother.  Her gaze stopped at the sight of a man in the hallway.  She caught a glimpse and then he was gone.  His head was downcast; his shoulders drooped in sadness.  Her father?  Had he stopped by, seen the chaos and left?  Or had he been in the hospital all along?  Conrad told her he would be there if she wanted him, but she thought that meant a phone call away, not that he would be waiting in the hallway.  Her sense was that he was attempting to hear the conversation without interrupting.  He seemed sad.  But that was so unlike the man she knew.  The man who wafted in and out of her childhood, yelling and barking orders at her mother.  Throwing money in a trust for her education so that he could feel important and hold it over her head.  She strained her eyes to see, willed his shadow to overcast her door once more.  The last time she had laid eyes on him was her high school graduation.  He had shown up, introduced her to Conrad and left.  That was over a year ago.  Her heart wanted him now.  She wanted him to hug her.  Hold her and tell her everything would be ok.  He would protect her and keep her safe.  She needed him.</p><p>Conrad lost her attention.  “Isabelle? Isabelle!”</p><p>“Dad?” she turned back to her brother.  “Is dad out there?”</p><p>Confused, he pulled his lips into a half smile, “Yeah.  Didn’t I tell you he was here?”</p><p>“Yeah, but right here?  This whole time?”</p><p>“Right here.  This whole time. He’s been talking to Dr. Austen and yelling at police officers, even hired an attorney.”</p><p>New tears formed.  “I don’t think I knew that.”</p><p> </p><p>He laughed, “Do you want to see him?”</p><p>Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded </p><p>“Yes.”  He turned towards the door so there was no chance of her voicing a rejection.  “I’ll get him.”</p><p>Isabelle moved a shaky hand to her forehead and pushed some hair out of her face.  She had the fleeting thought that she did not look very pretty, but that, and all other concerns, flew out of her mind when she saw his figure fill the doorway again.  Despite her best intentions, she broke down sobbing.</p><p>Marshall had waited too long for this moment and wasted no time pushing around his son and closing the distance to his daughter’s bed.  Cupping her cheek, he kissed her forehead.  “Oh, Isabelle.  Honey, I’m so sorry.”</p><p>She tried to stop the sobs that racked her body by holding her breath.  Conrad allowed that for a few beats before saying, “Belle, you just had surgery on your lungs.  Holding your breath is not a good idea.  Don’t worry, the medication is making you more emotional.”</p><p>How she hated all this medication!  She let out her breath and tried to relax as her father placed one hand on her cheek and the other in hers.  She closed her eyes and felt like she was being lifted and carried. Do most people feel this all the time?  Is this love, the love that her life had been missing?  She listened to his tone and his cadence and ignored the words of platitude that he bestowed on her.  They were nice but unnecessary.  His warmth filled her.  A sense of peace washed over her.</p>
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